The World Beneath
by The Romance Chick
Summary: How did Dr. Crane become the monster he is today? A crossover bw Batman Begins and Constantine.
1. Chapter 1

The World Beneath

Batman Begins/ Constantine crossover; inspirations from The Crow

Jonathan Crane was not walking along the same plane of existence as everyone around him. Although it was obvious that he was walking across the crowded Quad of Gotham University, his mind was on another planet, exploring theories of quantum physics, chemistry and biology. These were his passions and he often found his thoughts drifting to molecular configurations and the body's reaction to them. While he loved sciences, he was also in a zealous and romantic affair with psychology. He was fascinated by the way the human mind worked; its intricacies and secrets had never been truly uncovered. His dream was to be the first man to understand these things. Egotistical though it may have been, he had never been one to feign modesty. It seemed his career path was headed toward psychiatry; a marriage of the two things he loved.

Just as he was pondering the lecture one of his professors had given earlier that day, he crashed into something and fell flat on his bottom, his bag opening and its contents spilling across the pavement.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" said a frantic, anxious voice. "I wasn't looking where I was going at all."

_Clearly_, he was tempted to say. "No, no. It's alright," he responded instead, quite disgruntled as he collected his belongings. He felt angry but wasn't naturally a confrontational person. He mostly wanted to collect his things and be on his way. As he looked up to see if he recognized the face of the most certainly inferior person who had bumped into him, he found himself staring into the most beautiful pair of brown eyes. He couldn't move.

"Hello? Are you okay?"

"I…um…em…" While he was first in his class and headed to Johns Hoppkins Medical School, he was completely inept when dealing with beautiful women.

"Here. Let me help you with your stuff." She began picking up some of his papers. "I am such a klutz sometimes."

Both Jonathan and the woman stood up now that all of their possessions were back in their bags.

"Are you sure you're okay? You still look a little out of it. Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the health center? I'm actually on my way there now, so if you want to come with me you can. I just…" She noticed the glazed and questioning look on his face. "Oh. Sorry." She laughed. He noted it was nervous laughter. "I do that sometimes. Just keep talking!"

Jonathan stared at her in disbelief. Why couldn't he manage to say anything?

"Um, I'll just go now," she mumbled, walking briskly in the direction she was headed.

"It was my fault!"

_Was that my voice cracking or his dignity? _he wondered.

She stopped. "What?"

He cleared his throat and repeated himself. "It was my fault, too. I wasn't looking where I was going either. My head was in the clouds."

She smiled. It was a beautiful smile. It made him think all in the world was right. She walked back to him and stuck her hand out.

"Hi there. What's your name?"

"Jonathan. Yours?" He took her hand and shook it.

"Isobel."

**(SCSCSCSCSC)**

What was he doing here? Waiting for a girl he didn't even know. It seemed a little crazy. He wasn't normally impulsive; reason had always been his greatest tool. But, there was something about this woman that he couldn't put his finger on. She seemed almost as befuddled as him. As sweet as she appeared on the outside, he could detect a touch of something darker. This all intrigued him.

"You're still here?" she said, somewhat surprised, when she came into the waiting room.

"I am."

"Thanks. I'm sure you have better things to do, though."

"Not really."

"Oh. I get it," she said with a smirk, her tone turning sarcastic. "Your one of those pre-med guys who lives in the library studying for his MCATs."

While this was true, he didn't want her thinking he was a completely antisocial weirdo.

"No, but as a future doctor I had to be sure you would be okay. You know; compassion for the sick and injured, Hippocratic Oath and all that." He said all this in a very dry and sarcastic tone.

"Sounds like you're going to be a good doctor. Do you know what kind you want to be when you grow up?"

"Psychiatrist. Do you want to get something to eat?"

His directness surprised both of them.

"Yeah, I'd like that. I'm kind of hungry."

**(SCSCSCSCSC)**

They walked to a cheap burger joint that was close to campus, talking all the while about everything. When they got there they found a booth in the back, far from noisy frat boys trying to devour as much food as they could in order to have their names put on the Wall of Fame behind the counter.

"What about you?" he asked. "You haven't told me what your major is yet."

"Double major in Criminology and Theology."

"Those two things don't seem to fit together."

"They don't. Not really, anyway, but they're my two passions."

"Criminology?"

"My dad was a cop, my mom was a lawyer, my grandfather was a detective. It's sort of in my blood."

"Alright, that makes sense. What about Theology."

She slurped on her soda a bit longer before she took a deep breath and answered.

"I'm a devout Catholic. It's my other real passion. I… it just…I feel like there's more I want to know, you know? I mean, there's what you're told and what you read, then there's what you _know_, and then there's what you believe. Is any of this making sense?"

"I'm sure it is. I'm just not that religious or spiritual."

"Really? You don't even have the slightest feeling that there's something bigger than all of this?"

"I think theirs is…something that drives people, but God? The Devil? Please! I don't believe in the Devil."

"You should," she said, quite seriously. "He believes in you." There was an awkward silence. "Sorry. Not exactly dinner conversation." She laughed nervously again. This made him smile. She cut her own laughter short. "You're cute."

"Oh… Thank you." was all he could say. He severely blushed. She smirked at his redness and continued eating french fries. After a few moments, she broke the silence.

"Okay. Rapid fire: Where are you from?"

"Um, here. Gotham."

"Siblings?"

"None."

"Parents?"

"David and Sonia."

"I bet they're proud. Their son the doctor. I can hear the bragging already."

"Um, not so much. My dad died senior year in high school and my mom has paranoid schizophrenia. She's in an institution."

"Oh." She shrunk a bit. "I'm so sorry." There was another awkward silence. Now he laughed with discomfort.

"I guess we're even now for creeping each other out." This made her genuinely laugh. "Rapid fire: Where are you from?"

"L.A." She straightened up a bit.

"Siblings?"

"A sister."

"Younger or older?"

"Twin."

"Really? It always thought it would be great to have a twin." He then switched into a very analytic mode. "Tell me, did the two of you have habits or interactions that were particular to your pair?"

"Yes. Actually…" Her voice suddenly trailed off and her eyes glazed over as she gazed into a space just beyond his right shoulder. Jonathan turned around but only saw an old lady standing there. Slowly, he saw her face change from being very relaxed and at ease to unsettled and disturbed. Here breathing became slightly erratic, but she showed no signs of fainting or of being in any physical distress. He would have tried to stir her were he not so curious as to what was developing beneath the surface of her outer façade.

"Isobel?"

She gasped when he got her attention. She took a moment to compose herself then sweetly smiled. "Sorry... My head was in the clouds."

He smirked. He knew she would throw that in his face later.

"You wanna' get out of here?" she asked.

"Sure." He didn't know what to expect as she rushed out the door.

**(SCSCSCSCSC)**

Twenty minutes later he found himself on the roof of the Wayne Library with a Corona in his hand. They were sitting on the ledge, their legs dangling along the side of the building.

"Aren't you afraid of falling off?" he asked her.

"No."

"Are you afraid of anything?"

She smiled sweetly at him but said nothing.

_I could keep her fears away_, he thought.

There wasn't anything to fear though. About six feet below them was a second ledge that could catch them if they happened to get too tipsy.

Just then, he noticed a sad, grungy looking building. "I can see where I grew up from here."

"Where is it?" she asked.

"Right there." He pointed in the direction of the dilapidated building.

"Where?" She leaned her head to see exactly where he was pointing.

"There. That's where I grew up."

"I'm just going to pretend I can see where you're pointing."

"It's right there! I'm pointing right at it! How can you not see it?"

"It's night!"

They laughed, the alcohol beginning to take effect.

Isobel suddenly stood up on the ledge, her arms wide as if she were going to embrace the sky. "It's such a beautiful night."

He looked up at her with wonder. "Yes. It is."

"It looks so completely different in the day. This city looks alive at night. Gotham is a nocturnal, melancholy creature."

"That's poetic."

"It's just what I see; that's what Gotham is to me. What is it to you?"

"It's…" he thought for a moment, "A spinning hell hole."

"Don't say that." She was sitting beside him again. "You've never been to Hell."

He was worried this was going to lead to another awkward moment. _Damn it!_ he thought, _And this night had been going so well._

He didn't have to worry for too long though because the door to the roof swung open with a crashing sound. Their heads snapped in the direction of the door only to see a couple, wrapped around each other and suctioned to each other's faces, stumbling up the steps onto the roof. They closed the door, upon which the man instantly pushed the woman up against the door and continued kissing her furiously. Jonathan and Isobel simply watched, mouths hanging open. When the man began to kiss her neck, the woman's vision was now clear to see the pair that was already on the roof. Here eyes grew wide and she whacked her partner on the shoulder. He briefly turned around, saw Jonathan and Isobel, and turned back to his girlfriend. They burst into hysterical laughter then ran back down stairs. Jonathan and Isobel stared at the door for a moment before facing each other and also bursting into hysterical laughter.

As they're laughter was winding down, Jonathan was struck with his second impulse of the evening. He leaned in and kissed her, taking her completely by surprise; she had still been slightly laughing. With the kiss she was stilled and didn't respond. It was then that Jonathan realized what he had done. He pulled away from her after only about five seconds. He firmly set his gaze on his shoes

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

But he didn't get a chance to finish. She turned his face back toward him and kissed him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was nearly seven in the morning. He would need to be going soon. He needed to catch the nine o'clock train to Baltimore, but right now he didn't want to move. He just wanted to stay here and watch her breath, her body gently rising and falling beneath the bed sheets. His breathing fell in sync with hers, making him feel for a moment that they could be a single being.

It had been almost a year since that night on the roof top at Gotham U when his life took a fortunate turn. He had found love. True love. The kind of love that wakes you in the middle of the night with shivers like a nightmare, only instead of a nightmare it's the most extreme sense of happiness and desire. When he was near her, it was often difficult for him to sit still, except for moments like these when he didn't want to do anything to ruin the most perfect stillness. Usually he would feel himself fill with nervous energy and a want he had never before known. Nothing ever quelled that want and desire; the only thing that even came close was the act of making love, but the effects of that would wear off (although each time he swore he could never be brought down from the high it gave him). It was then that he would marvel at the fact that something as perfect as she could and did exist. It defied all the forms of logic and science he knew of.

He felt her stir and for a moment he was afraid he had woken her in spite of trying his hardest to stay still. She moved closer to him, settled and smiled. She still slept.

He didn't want to leave her this morning. It was so hard to leave in the mornings when they were curled up next to each other like this. But he had a class that very afternoon and if he didn't catch the train he wouldn't make it in time. He would have skipped it, too, if it weren't such a crucial course.

Moments later he felt fingers scratching at his stomach and sliding to his hip, giving him goose bumps.

"Good morning," she whispered breathlessly in his ear before gently biting it. One of his hands went to her back while the other tangled in her hair. She moved her hand to a similar place in his hair but soon took hold his chin and neck, gently turning his head in a direction than allowed her to kiss the place where his neck met his jaw. Running her thumb across his lips as she did this, he breathed deeply and closed his eyes. He clasped his hand with the one at his hip.

"Isobel," he sighed and smiled. "You make it so hard to go when you do this."

"Then stay," she replied, playfully tugging at his hair and nipping his neck.

"You know I can't."

"You could if you went to GU."

He groaned. They had had this discussion before. She had been trying to get him to transfer back to Gotham University, into its School of Medicine, since the day he started classes at Johns Hoppkins. His eyes opened again and he looked her in the eye, lovingly cupping her face. "I can't do that."

"You mean you won't do that."

"That's not what I said." His body flinched as she lightly when she brushed her fingers across his abdomen again. "Why do you do that? You know it tickles."

"Because," she said, smiling sweetly as her hand moved lower. "It gets you to do this." Her hand rested on his growing hardness. She straddled his legs and started stroking his member. His hands grabbed onto her hips with a little bit of force and did all he could to keep himself from bucking into her touch. He saw what she was trying to do but tried to ignore it and instead concentrate on massaging her breasts. "Baby, won't you transfer?" she moaned.

He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes again. "The medical program at Gotham isn't half as good as the one at Hoppkiiihh…" His last word was lost when she twisted her hand at the head of his shaft.

"That's not true. People only think that because all of Gotham's best students go to places like Hoppkins."

It was true. Anyone smart enough to make it into medical school was also smart enough to find away out of the scum bucket that was Gotham City. Jonathan had been trying to escape the city for most of his life. The medical school at GU was excellent; she was right. But, even if she was wrong, she would have been right. Anything she said could be true, so long as her hands kept stroking him.

"Transfer?" she asked again, pouting.

He groaned and rolled his head back. "I can't."

"Please?" She kissed the corner of his mouth.

"No," he said, meeting her lips for a real kiss.

"Transfer." She pulled extra hard on him.

"Uhn." He bucked into her hand. "No," he managed to say, pulling her back into their kiss.

"Baby, please." She rubbed her thumb across the slit at the head of his cock, brushing aside the precum.

"Mmm," was the only audible sound that came from him.

"You like that?"

"Yes," he responded breathlessly.

She ran the palm of her other hand along the underside of his member then gently ran two fingers over the patch of skin between the base of his cock and his anus, then rubbed hard against the base of his shaft. "How about that?"

"Yes," he said again, in the same voice as before. He felt the surging pull of energy coming from his core, signaling his approaching climax, when suddenly she pulled her hands away. He grabbed one of her wrists tightly and gave her a dark look. "Finish it, Isobel."

Putting her other hand on the back of his head she leaned in and pulled him into a kiss. "Or what?" she asked when they parted.

He made his voice as menacing as possible. "I'll make you."

His tone was one that would have intimidated anyone else, but it made her giggle. "That's so cute. You'd never force me."

He let go of her wrist and clasped her hand, defeated. She was right. "Then why are you trying to force me to transfer?" he whined.

"I'm not forcing you." She unclasped her hand from his and cupped his balls. "I'm just _asking_ you to transfer." She massaged and squeezed them gently.

"Uhh, you fucking law students and your semantics."

"What about us fucking law students?"

"You never know when to give up." At this, she began pumping him at a fast pace. He felt it coming and squeezed his eyes shut. She had leaned her forehead against his and kissed the bridge of his nose. It was too much to bear. Spasticly, he clutched at the small of her back and her shoulder blades.

"Darling, open your eyes."

He was afraid to, but he did anyway.

There were her eyes. Her sinfully beautiful brown eyes.

"Do you like it when I do this to you?"

"Yes," he gasped.

"Will you cum for me"

"Yes…" His voice weakly trailed off. He was so close.

"What was that?"

"Yes!" he said a bit more loudly, the word laced in desperation.

She whispered to him. "Will you transfer for me?"

_No._ he thought. _No, I will not._ But then he looked into her eyes. In his vulnerable position and in the face of those beautiful eyes, he could only say one thing.

"Yes."

She naughtily grinned and using both her hands, pulled his climax from him.

His vision went white then he saw stars. Then he saw that his milky cum was all over his stomach. She was rubbing it in, massaging his abdomen. His senses were still so overloaded, he didn't even register that it tickled. He slumped down, lying on his back with only his head and neck supported by the pillows, panting.

He pulled her to be straddling his stomach. She slid up his body easily, his stomach made slick by the cum. He rubbed her thighs as he caught his breath. As he regained his breath, his hands slid up her sides, massaging her body as he went. He rubbed circles into her breasts with his thumbs until he felt satisfied by their tenderness. Then he rubbed each of her perfectly erect nipples.

"Jonathan," she sighed. "I know you weren't being serious before." He didn't respond as he cupped her breasts in his hands and squeezed. She leaned into his touch without hesitation. "You should go. You're going to miss your train." Without warning, he sat up and latched his lips onto one of her nipples. A gasp came from her lungs and she tangled her hands in his hair. He smiled at her sighs and little sounds of pleasure. It made him quite content. He then switched to her other nipple.

When he finished, he kissed her sweetly on the lips.

"You know I can't deny you anything," he said.

He lay back down and bent his legs, putting his feet flat on the bed.

"Lean back," he told her. She did, resting her back against his thighs. His eyes darkened. "Open for me." She spread her legs slowly, a demure look on her face, despite her position. He pulled her closer so that she sat just below his ribs and carefully he spread her folds, bearing her clit then blowing on it. He saw her twist the sheets in her fists and bite her bottom lip.

"You like that?" His tone was serious, but the smirk on his face was clearly cocky and getting back at her for earlier.

"Mmm-hmm," she said, barely nodding her head, her eyes closed.

He reached out and rubbed his thumb against it. She gasped and rocked her hips forward into his touch. "How about that?"

"Yes," she sighed.

He continued rubbing her clit in every different way he could imagine, once again getting harder and harder as he watched her writhe and moan above him. In the few moments before she came, their eyes met and somehow his universe came down a few notches and he was the most amazed he had ever been. He felt her thigh muscles clench and unclench several times before she threw her head back. Letting out a short but powerful cry, she came. He continued to rub her insides until the spasming contractions subsided and she place her hands on his shoulders, panting.

After a few moments of regaining her breath she ran her hands up the back of his neck and buried her hands in his hair, pulling him to her for a fierce kiss which he responded to equally fiercely. He could feel the wetness of her cum on his chest and it only fueled his ferocity. He sat up slightly, sliding her body down his own to place her in his lap, and pulled her flush against him, never once breaking the kiss. After a few minutes they parted their lips and stared at each other. She was the first to speak.

"You look so beautiful like this." She began to run her hands through his hair.

This comment caught him a little off guard and made him feel a little self concious. "Men can't be beautiful," he calmly responded.

"Yes they can. You certainly are." She continued to play with his hair and stroke his face with her fingers. "Your lips are all swollen from kissing me, your eyes are darker and your hair is a mess. You look the way sex should look. You smell the way sex should smell. You are such a beautiful man."

He blushed and laughed quietly.

"You're going at blush at that?" she teased. "I should be blushing after that display. What about the massive hard-on I'm sitting on, are you going to blush at that?"

"We'll see who blushes," he said as he rolled them onto their sides, "When this massive hard-on is inside you."

Pulling her leg higher over his hip, he entered her without warning. Her arms squeezed him tightly and let out a high pitched yelp when he buried himself nearly to the hilt. There he stayed still for a few moments, allowing himself to be wrapped in the tight warmth. He began to thrust shallowly into her, barely moving any part of his body except his hips. His hand ran slowly along her side and he kissed her with tenderness. She cradled his face in her hands, also moving her hips slightly, wrapping her leg a bit more tightly around his hip with each of his thrusts. The dizzying force was coming again and he rolled her onto her back so that he was positioned above her and increased the pace. Their bodies were pressed close together and he put nearly his full weight on her. At this, she let out a simultaneous gasp and moan, gripping onto his shoulder blades.

When their love making ended they lay still on their sides, their bodies tangled, hands clasped. He kissed her forehead. It tasted of her salty sweat. Her eyes were closed in a restful manner, but he felt the need to disrupt this quiet moment. It was very important.

"Love?" He was always a little afraid to say it. He worried she might not respond to it one day.

"Yes?"

"I can submit a transfer application for the next semester. The deadline is in two months."

She took his face in her hands and kissed him with exhaustion and satisfaction. In a voice of ecstasy, she exclaimed, "I love this man. How did he come to be mine?"

"Who are you talking to?"

"Everyone who's listening."

He smiled at her silliness and softly laughed. Suddenly he realized how tired now he was. Checking the clock, he groaned, but went back to her, pushing one of his legs between hers and wrapping his arms around her. He buried his face in her neck.

"What about your train?" she asked.

"I can catch the next one if I go straight to class from the station."

"I love you..." was the last thing he heard before falling into a light slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

He was rushing through the streets to get home, leaping over puddles and bumping into strangers who then gave him dirty looks. There was a beautiful woman waiting for him. There was a long weekend coming up, and his plans were to spend as much of it as he possibly could with Isobel. Preferably with minimal clothing. This weekend was particularly celebratory, not simply because there was an extra day of the weekend, but also because he had finished the first week his internship under the renowned Dr. Green at Melvin Hospital in the psychiatric ward. There was a third reason for celebration, and because of it he was most excited to get home. There was a small box in his pocket that he kept squeezing to make sure it hadn't disappeared. In it was a ring intended for the finger of the one waiting for him.

"Isobel. Isobel," he called into the apartment as he entered.

He saw her looking out the window with her arms crossed. He approached her.

"Hello beautiful," he said, sneaking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waste.

In an instant, she'd thrown him off of her. "Who are you?" she shouted.

He stared at her confusedly for a moment, not understanding what he assumed to be a joke. Then he _saw_ her. She was dressed differently and her eyes; they were not the ones he knew. "Who are _you_?" he shot back.

"Jonathan!" he heard from behind him. He turned around and saw _his_ Isobel. He then looked back to the _other_ Isobel then back to the one he knew. His head swam before he remembered a vital fact: Isobel had a twin.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, almost laughing. "This is Anglela!"

"Yeah," replied Isobel, amusedly.

"You must be _the guy_," interjected Angela, not quite as amused as Isobel or Jonathan.

Jonathan was put off by the displeasure in her voice and immediately put up his defenses. He became the man he was at work; professional, curt but as personable as possible.

"It's good to finally meet you," he said, offering his hand.

"Like wise," she responded, a small, forced smile on her face.

_They may look alike_, he thought, _But she is nothing like Isobel._

**(SCSCSCSCSC)**

Dinner went by rather uneventfully. Isobel explained that Angie had decided to drop by to surprise her. Though the evening felt like it was going on forever, Jonathan did his best to not show it, for Isobel's sake. He did his best to feign interest in the things she said and not be rude (as he knew he could be) when he disagreed.

Finally, Angela explained that she had to leave in order to catch a midnight flight to L.A.

"She hated me," he complained to her later that night in bed.

"No she didn't," she reassured him, gently rubbing his shoulder, sitting herself in his lap.

"She hated me," he sang, rubbing her thighs.

"She's a detective; she's naturally skeptical."

"Still, I thought she'd never leave."

"She's my sister! I couldn't just send her packing."

She bit back a moan when he put his fingers inside of her.

"I know, I know. But I just wanted to spend the evening with _you_." He emphasized the last word by thrusting his fingers into her hard.

"You mean you wanted to spend the evening _inside_ me."

"I mean I just wanted to spend the evening inside you." He kissed her grinningly in agreement.

With that, he tossed her legs off of his lap and climbed on top of her, beginning to spread her legs with his knee. Laying her on her back, he stayed there, between her legs, his head resting on her breasts, her legs wrapped around his back. He closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of her soft skin against his cheek, the sensation of her fingers running through his hair and scratching at his scalp. It was wonderful, just lying there, his mind free of all thoughts save what he could touch and smell. Well, there was one other thought on his mind, and he desperately wanted to enact it.

Her legs tightened around him as he moved her body up. He opened his eyes and saw her sultry smile of anticipation that was growing more by the second. Unlike what she expected though, he reached behind her head, sticking his hand down between the mattress and the head-board. The expression on her face quickly changed.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't respond; he just continued blindly searching behind the mattress.

"Jonathan?"

"Umm, just give me one second... yes!" He then turned bashful. "This was supposed to go smoother than that."

"Jonathan, what are you talking about?"

Suddenly his heart froze. Terror took hold of him in a way he had never known it could. What if she said no? What if she laughed at him and never wanted to look upon him again?

"Baby? Are you okay?" Isobel asked, growing worried. "You're getting that look like when I tried to explain how to use the VCR... only worse."

"I..." he rolled off of her and sat up. Hanging his head, he stared at the square black box cradled in his hands.

Soothingly, she placed a hand on his thigh. "What is it?" she asked.

It was hard for him to find the words, but after a few moments of struggling they began to come.

"I'm sorry that I can't be the kind of man I should be. I just can't do the things that... Isobel?" He saw tears slowly run from her eyes. The sight of it made his throat close slightly, as if he were being suffocated. He took her hand. "Please, don't cry, Isobel. What have I done to make you cry?"

She snatched her hand away from him. "You're breaking up with me," she whispered, pulling her legs to her body and hiding her face behind her knees.

His eyes grew wide in horror. "NO! No! That's not what... I'm not... Oh Isobel." He wrapped his whole body around her, his own voice on the verge of tears. "How could I ever leave you? I know you deserve better than me, but..."

At that she threw him off her body. "Who are you to say what I do and don't deserve!" she yelled at him.

A small, "Uhh...," was all he could get out before she continued berating him.

"All my life people have been telling me what's true and what's not, and despite the fact that I know what it is that believe is what's true, no one has ever given me the right to make my own truths." She took his face in her hands. "Before you, I really thought I had things figured out. I know you don't believe in God, but I do believe in Him and I thought I'd found all the answers I needed in religion. Then you showed up and ruined it and that scared me, Jonathan, it _terrified_ me. But then I realized you _are_ the answer to all those questions; the way I love you is the truest thing I know. Now my only fear is of loosing you. So don't tell me I don't deserve you when you're the only thing worth living for. Telling me that I don't deserve you is telling me that I don't deserve to live!"

She desperately searched his face for any sign of recognition. His gaze was alarmed and intensely focused on her. His lips moved, as if to speak, but no words came out. This made her anxious and nervous. She shook him.

"Say something!" she urged.

"Marry me," he said, without hesitation.

She looked at him as though he had just spoken in an alien tongue. "What?"

Sitting up straighter, his intonation lowered to a sure and steady register. "Marry me," he repeated and presented the little black box, opening it to reveal a golden ring holding a small diamond in its center.

At this she appeared to grow angrier and was practically sobbing. "God damn it, Jonathan!" She hit him in the shoulder several times as she spoke between tears. "You put me through all this just to ask me a simple question like that?"

"Yes?" was his meek response. He held the ring in front of his face as if it could protect him from her wrath.

"You're such an idiot sometimes! Of course I'll marry you!"

She was still crying as he took her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. The tears became fewer after the first few kisses. By the time their bodies had become one, all traces of tears were gone.

**SCSCSCSCSC**

After she'd accepted his proposal, he'd thought it would be terribly romantic and manly of him to make love to her right then. He imagined leaving her speechless in a fit of exatlcy. Yet it was he who lay covered in sweat, barely able to move after having just been ravaged by his new fiancee. He turned to look at her and saw her stretching and twitching about excitedly. She held her hand out in front of her, turning it and looking at it in different angle. She was giddy at the sight of the ring he'd placed on her finger.

_How can she even move?_ he struggled to understand. Forcing his tired body to move, he reached out to her and hugged her, laying on his side.

Strangely, his mind wandered to the way she'd scratch his abdomen to tickle him. His hand wandered to her own abdomen. He watched as he slowly passed his palm over her flat belly several times, the friction warming her skin and his hand, wondering what she would look like with a slight roundness. For reasons he couldn't explain, he felt a tingle inside himself he had never felt before. What would she think if he said it out loud?

She tugged his hair to get his attention. "You thinking about kids already?"

So, he didn't have to say out loud. He smirked up at her, a little embarrassed. "Maybe."

She bit her bottom lip and met his smirk with one of her own. With the back of her hand, she stroked his cheek. "We'd make beautiful babies. Not right now, but eventually."

He felt as though he were floating and on fire at the same time. _We'd make beautiful babies_. It rang in his head and made him dizzy with happiness. The words came out of his mouth before his aching body could reason with him.

"Wanna' practice?"

She didn't need to be asked a second time, as she was on top of him inside of five seconds.


End file.
